Flight Sergeant Peter Brown had a modest funeral planned – before a campaign to find his relatives turned it into a much larger affair

A report by Ed Cumming for London’s Telegraph.

Flight Sergeant Peter Brown’s coffin lay draped in a Union flag in front of the altar, with a large Jamaican flag behind. A grey RAF cap was placed at one end of the casket. St Clement Danes, on the Strand, is the RAF family church, where the air force gathers to honour its servicemen. On Thursday morning there was not an empty pew. Jamaican and British servicemen stood in bright medals pinned to dark suits and dresses, sitting alongside friends, neighbours and family, some of whom had flown halfway around the world to be there.  

This kind of send-off was unthinkable just a few weeks ago. Brown died at home alone in Maida Vale in December. At 96, he was one of the last surviving “Pilots of the Caribbean,” the hundreds of young West Indians who came over during the war to serve in the RAF. After leaving the air force, he had lived a modest life in West London. No direct family could be found and a modest funeral was planned in Mortlake, south-west London. 

That was before a council campaign to find his relatives was picked up by the media, military historians and genealogists, generating such a reaction that the event was moved to St Clement Danes, which can seat 600. 

“I wanted to put in my two cents to ensure he was taken care of,” said Johanna Lewin, chair of the Jamaica branch of the Royal Air Force Association, who was one of the people responsible for tracking down the friends and family. “Everything had been cleared out of his flat, but we found an envelope with a name and address in Jamaica. A week later, a gentleman called back to say his wife was Peter’s first cousin.” 

Maurilla Simpson, a soprano and another British Caribbean veteran, said she hoped the response to Brown’s story would mean better care for veterans. “I hope it doesn’t end here. I hope it sparks not just interest, but people feeling the necessity to ensure that this doesn’t happen again.”

As word spread and those who knew Brown started to come forward, the funeral became a rallying point for the Caribbean and armed forces community in London, as well as Brown’s family around the world.

“I saw the story and I recognised it straightaway,” said Natalie Ramsey, 87, from Ickenham, one of Peter’s second cousins. “We thought he had died in the war, like my uncle. My grandmother mourned him. When I came to the UK in 1960, I looked for my uncle, but I never looked for Peter because I thought he was dead.”

Brown was a few minutes late for his last show. His hearse was caught up in Chelsea Flower Show traffic. Nobody seemed to mind. If anything, they were glad of the extra moments to anecdotes stories. The atmosphere exuded the respectful conviviality of a community proud to have come together. Men and women, old and young, swapped stories of why they were here. Air Chief Marshal Sir Mike Wigston, chief of the air staff, sat not far from Micheal Ward, the Bafta-winning star of Channel 4’s gang-crime drama Top Boy. 

Melvyn Caplan, one of Brown’s neighbours, gave a tribute, sketching the outlines of Brown’s life. Brown was born on August 22 1926, and grew up in Jamaica before setting out in September 1943 to enlist in the RAF Volunteer Reserve. He joined 625 Squadron, motto “We Avenge,” which flew Lancaster bombers, and trained as a radio operator and gunner. 

He flew five missions during the war, including in Tripoli, Egypt and Malta, and finally left the service in 1950, returning briefly to Jamaica before coming back to the UK.

In 1973 he settled in Warrington Crescent, where he lived for the next 50 years, rejoining the RAF in a civilian capacity. Caplan described a quiet man, who kept his own counsel and was reticent to bring up his experiences in the war. He was a member of the MCC from 1986 until 2016, and was never happier than when he was sat in his bacon and egg members’ tie at Lord’s. “What a great innings Peter had,” he said. “He nearly got his century, but was caught out in the nervous nineties. But he played with great flair and panache.”

More than 6,000 Black Caribbean men served in the RAF during the Second World War, including 450 aircrew. Around 3,700 of them were from Jamaica. The relationship between Jamaica and the UK is not as close as it was when Peter Brown served; the island has been independent since 1962, although Charles III remains the head of state. But, whatever the evolving relationship between the two countries, this was a celebration of community; between men and women who understand what it means to serve their country in uniform.

Fittingly, the service mixed RAF ceremony with Caribbean spirit. Wigston read from John 14, while the Reverend Michael King, whose father Sam co-founded the Windrush Foundation, led the congregation in impassioned prayer. 

The highlight was a performance by wheelchair-bound Maurilla Simpson. A veteran who served in the Army for 11 years, including three tours of Iraq, she was seriously wounded in a mortar attack while on patrol in Basra in 2007.

“It’s so nice to see so many women among the services here, and some who look like me,” she said, in between two uplifting vocal performances. “When I served, there weren’t many who looked like me.” She got a standing ovation. 

Outside the church, Myrtle Gutzmore, 91, whose husband is Peter’s first cousin and who had flown over from Jamaica to attend the funeral, said she was touched by the response. “We are happy to know so many people have turned out. They were asking for mourners, but now we are overwhelmed with mourners.” 

As the service drew to its conclusion, an RAF trumpeter played The Last Post, its mournful trill floating out into the May sunshine. The flag-draped coffin left St Clement Danes, held aloft by clean-cut young airmen in grey dress uniform and white gloves.

Borne on the shoulders of his successors, Peter Brown set off on his final sortie.